Mismatch's Story
by Mismatch Quinn
Summary: This is a story based on the movie Newsies, but without any Newsies from the movie itself. This is the story of how my character Mismatch escaped to Greenpoint, Brooklyn.


Sophie Quinn was not having a good day. Irritably she sucked down a cigarette, hanging out the window of her bedroom. If her father smelled the smoke it would be another black eye or worse, when he put her cigarettes out on her arms. Although he kept telling her it was for her own good, she knew he was just a man who liked to beat up on things smaller than himself. Bitterly she flicked the cigarette butt down onto the street after putting it out on the sill. Running a thin hand through her chin length red-brown hair, she plopped her chin into her palm and sighed.  
She had long ago come to the conclusion that her father would never love her. He loved himself and pretty much that was it. He didn't hit her mother or her older brother Patrick as much anymore. Once Patrick hit his last growth spurt, his father had left off with the fistfights. Sophie suspected that her father was seeing another woman, which was why he didn't go after her mother. Casting hazel eyes out towards the throngs of people on the street outside, she smiled as she saw two familiar boys sitting on crates outside of her tenement building.  
The taller boy kept glancing up at her window and when he saw her looking, he waved and yelled at her, a smile on his thin face. Sophie slammed her window shut and pulling on a brown plaid cap fairly flew out of the small, stuffy room. Hollering something towards her mother about being back later, she leapt down five flights of stairs, over drunkards and children playing in the stairwell.  
"Mismatch!" Sophie grinned and leapt into the boys' arms. The tallest boy swung her around before putting her down and grabbing her hand in his ink smeared own.  
"Quick, let's get out of here before your old man gets home." They darted across the street and ran down towards the East River front. Sitting on a pier, legs dangling over the sides, they companionably lit cigarettes. Sophie, or 'Mismatch' as the two street boys had nicknamed her for her habit of never having matching socks on, was ecstatic to see her two friends.  
Both boys lived in Willamsburgh, Brooklyn like her. But she rarely saw them since they sold papers during the day when she helped her mother clean rich people's houses. At night, both boys were either out in the bars or gambling.  
Crouch Rafferty was the eldest of all three at nineteen. He had bright blue eyes that were large in his thin face. Black hair was always usually tucked underneath his black bowler hat. Tall and leanly muscular, he was the toughest out of the trio. Jinx Davey was next in age at eighteen. He always wore his longish red hair slicked back with pomade. He had gray eyes that were always dancing with mischief. All three dressed pretty much the same, much to Mismatch's mother's chagrin. Button-down long sleeve shirts, undershirts, trousers, suspenders, vests, and caps. Mismatch found that people didn't hassle her as much when she was dressed like a boy. The only people who gave her crap for it were her father and mother. Mismatch rounded out the threesome at the age of seventeen.  
"So," Jinx spat out a fleck of tobacco and exhaled a large cloud of bluish smoke.  
" Your dad given you anymore bruises or shit?" Mismatch flinched and unconsciously patted her arm where her newest bandage was. Crouch's eye's narrowed and he slid an arm around her shoulders. Both boys were infuriated that a man would beat up on such a small girl. For her age, she was no taller than five feet and weighed a little over 100lbs soaking wet.  
"Eh you know how he is, Jinxie. I can't do nothin' right. Hah, I gave up trying a long time ago."  
"You could always stay with us, Mismatch." Mismatch felt her stomach lurch as it always did at the thought of leaving her house. She would feel guilty leaving her mother, but then again.  
"Yeah well," she sighed and suddenly felt exhausted. The three huddled together rather close for such a warm afternoon in August. A shout from the other end of the pier brought them out of their thoughts. Jinx stood, shading his eyes with a grimy hand. A smile broke upon his narrow face and he waved.  
"It's Swagger." Crouch stood, a grin playing across his face as well. Mismatch turned to look over her shoulder, not having ever heard of or met this Swagger character.  
True to his name, the boy sauntering down the dock towards them did so with a lazy swaying walk. Reaching them, he greeted Jinx and Crouch with a handshake and took off his cap and bowed in Mismatch's direction revealing a head fuzzy with closely shorn black hair. Piercing green eyes looked her up and down, and she felt her cheeks burn. He had rather shaggy black eye brows, and a nose that had been broken more than once. When he smiled, it was crooked and infectious and she found herself smiling stupidly back at him.  
He wore a faded blue shirt over a wifebeater turned gray from age. His trousers were black and he wore dark gray suspenders. Mismatch had to jolt herself out of looking at him the way that she was. It was far from proper. The boys seemed to be amused.  
"Swagger, this is Mismatch Quinn. Mismatch, this is Swagger Riordan. Swagger works for Declan Eagan down at Molly O's. He's a bouncer." Mismatch looked at the boy with disdain in her eyes. He wasn't too tall, and he looked too scrawny to be any good at muscling people in a bar. Swagger seemed to sense her disbelief, and flexed his biceps.  
"Feel that, it's solid." Tentatively, she did and found him to be right. He wasn't a huge boy, but he was thick with corded muscles. Swagger smirked at her and then turned his attention to the boys.  
"What're you fellas doin' tonight? We got some primo dancers down at Molly O's tonight. Real nice lookin' dames. You in?" Both boys glanced in Mismatch's direction. Swagger noticed and looked at her.  
"You wanna come? My treat, I'll even buy you a few beers." Crouch put a hand up, his face awash with concern. Jinx looked worried as well, but Mismatch suddenly felt like proving something to this arrogant boy. Sticking her chin in the air, she crossed her arms across her chest.  
"You're on, Swagger." Swagger laughed a raspy sound that echoed in the air. Putting his cap back onto his head, he turned to go, then looked back an eyebrow cocked expectantly.  
"Coming?" Then he walked away without looking back again. Mismatch followed him at a fast pace, but Jinx and Crouch caught up to her and whispered in her ears urgently.  
"Do you think this is a good idea, Mismatch? Your old man will kill you if you come home drunk."  
"Shit, he'll kill you if you aren't home by supper time." Mismatch kept her eyes on Swagger's back as they dodged through the crowds of people heading home from work.  
"I'll be home in plenty of time. It's Friday night, he goes to see his woman on Friday's and doesn't come home till late. It'll be a cinch, boys." Behind her back, Jinx and Crouch exchanged worried glances and followed her, shaking their heads and muttering to each other.  
  
Molly O's was a rather rough establishment on the waterfront. Dockworkers and sailors usually inhabited it. Crouch and Jinx were obviously regulars as they slapped many a back and shook many a hand while walking towards a table near the front. Mismatch had no doubt that they had spent a lot of their hard-earned money here before. Mismatch held her head up and stuck close to the boys as they finally reached their table and sat down. She realized that only a few of the men noticed she was even a girl.  
Sitting down at the roughly hewn table covered in gouges and stains, the boys ordered ales from a plumply pretty waitress who looked at Mismatch expectantly. This wasn't the first bar Mismatch had ever been to, but Swagger sitting at her right elbow flustered her.  
"Whatever they're having," she stammered. Jinx looked at her sympathetically and squeezed her arm as the lights in the bar dimmed and the lights on the small stage in front of them went on. Whistles and crude comments filled the air as a line of scantily clad dance hall girls entered and began a lively number. Their drinks came, and Mismatch thankfully sipped at the ale and smoked a cigarette. Despite the fact that the show was aimed towards the men, she found herself tapping her fingers on the table and bobbing her head to the music.  
Somewhere in the middle of her third pint, she began to sing along with most of the crowd. The song that was playing was 'Whiskey in the Jar- O'. Mismatch remembered hearing her grandfather Quinn singing and playing this song on his flute before they came over from County Mayo. Raising her glass up with Crouch and Jinx, she laughed along with them, face flushed. Glancing over, she went still as she saw Swagger watching her, an appreciative smile on his lips.  
"What're you looking at, Riordan?" The boy smirked and leaned close to her ear. She could feel his breath, warm and soft. He stroked her hand with one of his fingers.  
"You, you dumbass." Mismatch snorted with laughter at the absurdity of it all. Swagger leered and started to say something else when shouts and the sounds of broken glass erupted somewhere. He leapt up, pulling a pair of brassknuckles onto his hand and darted off into the crowd.  
"Don't get attached Mismatch. He's not a one broad type of guy. He'll break your heart." Mismatch glared at Crouch, who glared back. Both his tones of voice and face were serious and warned her not to argue. Mismatch crossed her arms and sulked as the stage lighting changed and a single girl came out to sing. The song she sang was sad and told the story of a girl whose fiancee had gone off to fight in some war. It truly was a forlorn tune, and Mismatch wasn't the only one who got teary-eyed.  
Swagger returned, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek, and a bruise forming on his chin. Wiping off the bloodied brassknuckles onto his wifebeater, he gulped down the remainder of his ale and took a deep breath.  
  
"You're hurt," Mismatch stated matter-of-factly. He smiled his crooked grin and she felt her stomach flip.  
"No shit. Wanna make me feel better?" Crouch stood up then, his face a mask and grasped Mismatch's shoulder. Jinx stood up as well, his hands loosely clenched at his sides. Swagger's face lost it's amused look and his eyes narrowed.  
"She's not your type, Swagger. Besides, Mismatch. It's almost quarter past midnight." Mismatch felt her stomach tie into knots as panic seized her. Numbly she turned to Crouch.  
"What! Oh my God, Oh my God." Whirling around, she shot out of the bar like an arrow let loose from a bow. Jinx and Crouch followed closely behind, calling her name. When they caught up to her, she grabbed at the collar of Crouch's shirt and tried to steady her heavy breathing. Shock washed through her as she realized Swagger was there as well.  
"He's gonna kill me, he is. I know it." All three boys watched her frantically babble, wary expressions on their faces. Jinx and Crouch looked worried, Swagger merely confused.  
"I thought you said he wouldn't be home till late," Jinx asked finally. Mismatch gulped, her alcoholic haze fading swiftly in the face of hysteria.  
"He has to work tomorrow, he'll have come home already." Crouch swore and Jinx spat onto the sidewalk. Swagger folded his arms and glowered at the trio.  
"Who's he? Your old man?" Mismatch lit a cigarette with shaking hands and leaned up against a brick wall of an apartment building.  
"My father. He hates me." Swagger made a derisive noise in his throat, and Mismatch flung her sleeves down to her elbows. Holding her arms up in Swagger's face, they glowed white in the moonlight. White speckled with bruises and burn marks. Swagger choked on his comment and stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. Reaching out, he gently touched the edge of the bandage that covered her latest burns and let out his breath slowly.  
"But you're so little." Mismatch saw the pity in his eyes, and turned away, roughly covering her arms once more. Walking away, she was joined by the three boys, all silent as they trooped down the street together. Mismatch felt like she was facing the gallows, and her father the executioner as her building loomed dark and drab in the night sky. Crouch snaked out a hand and held her arm for a second.  
"Me'n'Jinx will wait for you until you wave to us from your bedroom. Maybe he stayed with his lady friend tonight. " Jinx wanted to wait up on the fire escape that went past her window. Mismatch kissed his cheek and told him she'd be OK. Swagger's eyes shone in the moonlight as he handed her his brassknuckles. Mismatch grasped them in her hand and tried to give them back. Swagger held up his hands and shook his head, no.  
"I refuse. You need them more than I do. Besides," his smirk was back again, "It'll give me a reason to come find you." Mismatch smiled up at him sadly before squaring her shoulders and entering her building. She ran up the stairs fast, not giving anyone sleeping on the stairwell time to grab her. When she reached her apartment, she took out her house key and unlocked the door, opening it slowly so it wouldn't creak.  
It was dark inside, the moonlight filtering through the few windows they had. Mismatch began to hope that she was safe, that her father wasn't home yet. As she inched into the living room, she realized she was wrong as the sour stench of bourbon hit her nose. Fear washed over her like a wave of ice water. The fist that connected with her upper cheek made her fall to the ground and see little flashes of light that almost looked like stars.  
"You good for nothing little slut," her father growled. He turned up the gas lamp that sat on a small table beside their battered couch, where he had been sitting. She saw his bleary, red-rimmed eyes blind with fury and his meaty hands tugging his belt off. Picking herself up, she threw her body down the little hallway towards her bedroom, as he crashed along behind her.  
"Get back here! You think you can go out and drink, and hang around with those nasty street brats and not get hit for it? SOPHIE!" The last word was roared and she could hear her mother and brother opening their doors and stumbling out. Her brother's whore of a girlfriend was inside his bedroom, and she could hear her frightened voice asking what was going on. Mismatch heard her mother cry out as her father threw her against the wall and her brother hollering for him to stop. She flew into her bedroom and turned the lock, which she knew deep down wouldn't keep her father out in the rage that he was in.  
True to her thoughts, the door flew open as she was collecting scraps of clothing and loose change that was laying out. Her father charged into the room and tossed her up against the opposite wall as if she were a rag doll. Moaning, she rolled over and pulled Swagger's brassknuckles on. The hum of her father's belt cut through the air and she arched her back against the sting as it ripped across her.  
"Stop! Stop!" Mismatch could hear her mother crying from the hallway. Her brother was shouting as well but her father wouldn't stop. Finally, he paused, panting. Mismatch felt like her back was on fire. As he bent down to get a better look, she mustered all her strength and cracked him on the jaw with the knuckles. He dropped like a stone, and she heard more than saw the window to her bedroom being ripped open. Swagger, Jinx, and Crouch leapt into the room and fell upon her father, kicking him. Crouch hefted her over his shoulder, while Jinx took her stuff and threw it into a pillowcase and swung it over his own shoulder. Mismatch's brother Patrick got into the room and looked at the boys than his father.  
"Get her out of here. Make sure she sends word that she's OK. Tell her to leave any messages for me at O'Sullivan's Pub down on Doyle Street." Crouch nodded and they made their way into the hallway. Mismatch's mother was huddled up against the wall sobbing. Patrick's girlfriend was standing in his bedroom door, a dazed look on her face, her nightgown hanging off of one shoulder.  
The three boys made their way out of the apartment and swiftly vanished into the warm Brooklyn night.  
  
Mismatch awoke to someone sponging her back and murmuring softly to her. Hissing in pain, she half lifted herself off of the bed she lay on. A sea of boys' eyes looked back at her and she hastily flung herself chest- down again with a yelp.  
"You're in our lodging house, Mismatch." She heard Crouch's voice and turned her head in that direction. He sat perched on the bottom bed of the bunk opposite the one she lay on. Jinx sat next to him. She assumed the other boys were also newsboys who stayed there. Most of them had pity or curiosity in their eyes. Some of the smaller ones flinched in fear as she winced every time whoever was cleaning her back hit a tender spot.  
"OK boys, clear out, I have to bandage her now and I'm sure she doesn't want you to see that." Relaxing slightly at the sound of a female voice, she pulled herself up carefully into a sitting position. The girl who held a large swath of bandage in her hands was about Mismatch's age with ginger hair, and friendly brown eyes. She had a chipped front tooth and was almost skin and bones.  
"I'm Ginger O'Malley," she said as she began to gently wind the cloth around Mismatch's midsection. Mismatch gritted her teeth and held onto the blankets hard enough to turn her knuckles white.  
"Do," Mismatch inhaled sharply, "Do you sell newspapers?" Ginger nodded and tucked the end of the bandage away neatly.  
"OK you're done. Here, you can wear one of my shirts. Yours was rather destroyed I'm afraid." Ginger helped her into a red gingham checked shirt that smelled faintly of lemons. Mismatch slouched than winced and sat up straight. Every movement burned. Ginger went to the door and Jinx and Crouch reappeared. They stroked her hair and hesitantly patted her hands as she cried.  
"Swagger wanted to be here but he had to work. He sent news that he was coming by here tonight to take you to his place." Crouch's voice was sharply disapproving, but Jinx patted his shoulder.  
"She can't stay here, Crouchie. Mason would want her to sell to pay for her bunk, and I'm having enough trouble raking in enough change to pay for my own. At least with Swagger, she don't have to pay. Besides, she's too hurt for him to take advantage of." Crouch's mouth quirked slightly.  
"When you're better we'll find you a lodging house. If not here, than close by. I heard there's a good one in Green Point that might have vacancies."  
"What time is it?" Mismatch's voice was raspy. She was shocked when Jinx said that it was early evening. Apparently she had been out like a light all day. Ginger O'Malley had sat and made sure she didn't rip her cuts open and had taken the task of washing them since she was the only girl in that particular lodging house. Jinx and Crouch helped her lay down on her stomach once more, and settle herself. She drifted off to sleep as the boys came back in and started a poker game.  
She woke once more to someone stroking her hair and saying her name. Swagger sat on the edge of her bunk, his eyes full of concern. When he saw her struggle to sit up, he helped her and cupped her face in his hands.  
"Last night scared the shit out of me." Mismatch felt her eyes fill with confusion.  
"You just met me last night why would it scare you?" Swagger chuckled, and lit a cigarette. Holding it out to her, she stiffly moved her arms and took it into her hand and lifted it to her mouth.  
"Because I like you, dumbass." With that he rummaged through her pillowcase of belongings and lifted out his brassknuckles. Stowing them into his pocket, he turned his back to her and bent his knees slightly. Mismatch stared at him, the cigarette hanging out of her mouth.  
"Get on."  
"What?"  
"Get on my back. You're not going to be able to walk, and I'm tired and want to go home and sleep." Face aflame, she got onto his back with Ginger helping. Swagger hefted her up higher onto his back and they said their good-bye's to everyone.  
Out on the street, Mismatch buried her face into Swagger's shoulder blade to hide her face from the amused stares they were getting. Swagger was whistling but he chuckled.  
"I left a note for your mother at O'Sullivan's. Your brother said for you to leave any notes you had there with the bartender and he'd get them." Mismatch nodded. Swagger smelled like cigarette smoke, and shaving cream.  
"How old are you?"  
"Twenty-three. How old are you?"  
"Seventeen."  
Swagger snorted and hefted her up again. They walked for fifteen minutes at the most until they stopped at Molly O's. Swagger nodded at a few men standing outside the entrance who hollered crude things at them before Swagger told them all to stuff it and entered the alleyway. There was a flight of stairs that led to a small porch and a doorway.  
"I have an apartment over the bar," he explained unnecessarily as they made their way. Digging for the key in his pocket, he set her down and unlocked the door. Once inside, she looked around. There was a small kitchen with a table, a small main room with a few chairs a small table and a couch, a door that he said led to the bathroom, and then another door that had a blanket hanging over it.  
"That's my bedroom. Door got ripped off in a fight." He shrugged non- apologetically and led her in that direction. There was an unmade bed in the corner next to a window, a coat rack that held shirts and caps, a dresser, a small desk and chair, and a ratty braided cloth rug on the floor.  
"You can sleep in my bed for the time being. I'll be on the couch." Mismatch nodded, and with that he left after taking a pillow and sheet from the bed, leaving her the blanket. Undressing took forever, but she left on her undershirt and knickers. Laying her borrowed shirt and trousers on the chair, she gently got onto the bed and lay on her stomach. Sleep was a long time in coming.  
When she woke up, she was crying. Nightmares about the night before had plagued her all evening. She stiffened as she realized that someone had their arms around her and was stroking her hair. Swagger. She pushed against his chest, and he loosened his hold.  
"I'm sorry Mismatch. You were crying so hard and I wanted to help you stop." He wasn't wearing a shirt, and she could see just how wrong she had been about thinking him undefined for his size. Noticing her gaze, he kissed her tear-stained cheek and rose.  
"Go back to bed, kid." Mismatch bristled at being called 'kid', but she knew he was right. He was a grown man, what would he ever see in a kid that got the snot beat out of her all the time. Frustrated, she burrowed deeper into the pillow and fell asleep once more.  
Mismatch stayed at Swagger's all week. They would sleep late, him still on the couch and her in his bed. When they got up, she would make food with whatever he had lying around, and then they would go to the bar. Mismatch got coins from some of the men who were angered at the idea of a father beating up his daughter. Swagger tended to play up the telling of the story even more so that she had some change to jangle around and spend. She also helped by clearing tables and wiping them down. In exchange, she got free drinks. Mismatch realized that she quite liked the taste of alcohol and it helped numb the pain of her back. Not to mention, the pain of her home life.  
At the end of the night when she was done cleaning tables, they would stagger up the stairs to his apartment and either play card games with a few bottles of liquor he had swiped, or sit and talk. More than once Mismatch had been certain he was going to kiss her. He would get that look in his eye and lean close to her, but then he'd seem to shake himself and would always ruffle her hair and call her 'kid'. She began to wonder if he would let her stay there. Halfway through the second week, she realized that she couldn't.  
It was a Wednesday night, and the weather had been uncommonly cool. Mismatch had begged off from going to the bar that evening. Her back was aching and nightmares had kept her up the night before. She waited for Swagger to come home so they could have their nightly chat, when she heard the door open from in his bedroom.  
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Mismatch froze at the slurred female voice. She stopped mid-stride, and put her hand on the wall instead of on the blanket. She heard Swagger swear under his breath.  
"Yeah sure, since you invited yourself up here."  
"No need to be nasty, Swagger. We need to talk, you and I." She heard Swagger stalk into the kitchen, and come back into the living room. Inching her face close to the blanket, she made room for her to peep out. Swagger stood, his arms crossed looking at a girl who lounged on the couch. She was glassy-eyed, and scantily clad but remarkably beautiful. Wide violet eyes looked around the apartment as she swept long black hair over her shoulder. She had long lashes, rosy cheeks, and full red lips. Her costume was one like the dance hall girls wore.  
Swagger's face she could see in profile, and he wasn't the least bit happy. He wore only his undershirt, trousers, and suspenders. Mismatch could see the muscles in his jaw clenching with barely suppressed anger.  
"OK Ruby, what do you want from me this time? Money? I ain't got none to give ya. A place to stay? Never. You screwed me over enough the last time you were here." Ruby laughed a low hostile sound.  
"How I make my money never bothered you before, Seamus." Swagger pointed a finger at her and practically snarled.  
"Don't you dare call me that, Ruby. And I've always had a problem with you being a whore. Now what do you want?"  
"I'm pregnant, Swagger." He went very still and Mismatch felt her heart sink. His eyes widened in surprise and his shoulders drooped.  
"How do I know it's mine?" Ruby shrugged and helped herself to a cigarette from Mismatch's crumpled package on the table.  
"You don't, but I'm telling you it is. I may be a slut, but I don't lie." Ruby suddenly glanced down at the bedding materials strewn on the couch, and a predatory look gleamed in her eyes.  
"So, you got company these days? Seems I've only been gone a few weeks and some other harlot is already in your bed."  
"She's not a harlot, she's just a kid. She got hurt bad and her friends are a couple of regulars downstairs. So I'm helping her out till they find her another place. Besides, she's none of your damn business. So you're pregnant, what do you want?"  
"I need a place to stay, Swagger. Michael won't be my pimp anymore, since I told him I wanted to keep the baby. He says I have to be out of there in a night or two. You and me, we're the same Swagger. Besides, we have history together. And," she stared at him with an almost cruel smile on her thin face; " A boy does need his father."  
"If it's even a boy," Swagger retorted. Striding to the door, he opened it up and looked at her pointedly. Ruby rose and patted him on the cheek, before telling him she'd be back with her stuff the following night.  
"And I expect the other one to be gone when I get back." With that said, she was gone leaving nothing behind but a swirl of her flowery perfume. Swagger exhaled than glanced directly at Mismatch's hiding spot.  
"Come here, kid." Mismatch swept the blanket aside and shuffled into the room. Swagger slid into a chair and patted the one next to him. It was a few minutes before anyone spoke. Mismatch cleared her throat.  
"So I guess I'm leaving in the morning." Swagger looked at her sharply and Mismatch could have sworn she saw regret shine in his eyes before he squared his jaw and looked away.  
"Yeah I guess so. I'm sorry, Miss. This girl, she can't leave me alone. If I could prove she wasn't pregnant I'd kick her out and let you stay here again in a heart beat, but that can't happen for awhile." Mismatch laughed bitterly.  
"That's OK, you're a grown man. What do you want a kid hanging around here for?" She stood abruptly and would have walked away if Swagger hadn't grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. He had that Look in his eyes that made her catch her breath.  
"You're not just a kid to me." This time he finally did kiss her. It seemed to last only seconds before he broke away and swore heatedly. Mismatch looked up at him, lost in a daze.  
"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." With that, he gently pushed her towards his bedroom, and told her to go to bed. Flushed with shame, she did as he said, too muddled to argue.  
  
Swagger dropped her off outside Jinx and Crouch's lodging house early the next morning. He teased her and acted like nothing had happened the night before the whole way there, which infuriated Mismatch. When they reached the house, she stood silently before him, eyes on her shoes.  
"Listen, I." She looked up at him finally, and saw longing in his eyes. But in a flash, he hid that away and tweaked her nose before slipping something heavy into her trouser pocket.  
"If you need me, send word. I'll come whenever I can. Don't be a stranger, I'll find you if you try to ignore me. Take care kiddo." And with a kiss planted softly on her forehead, a wink and a mock salute, Swagger retreated into the safety of his own world. Mismatch put her hand into her pocket and felt her heart skip as she realized he had given her his prized pair of brassknuckles. She stood looking at them, and didn't even notice Crouch and Jinx exiting the lodging house and coming to greet her.  
"We'll have to take you to Green Point;" Crouch said after she explained the situation, " I heard they have vacancies, and we just filled our last one yesterday. Don't worry though, you'll be close enough that we can visit you whenever we can." Mismatch shrugged. She just wanted a place to call home where people wouldn't hit her, or abandon her. Fishing a cigarette out of her pocket, she followed the boys down the sidewalk as they made their way through Willamsburgh to Green Point, Brooklyn.  
When they reached the girl's lodging house in Green Point, the boys embraced her separately before assuring her that they would check back later to see if she had been accepted. With one last hug and kiss on the cheek, Mismatch watched them go back the way they had come. Taking a deep breath, and squaring her shoulders, she climbed the stairs and slowly opened the door of the lodging house.  
"Here goes nothing," she whispered, flicking her cigarette outside and shutting the door behind her.  
  
The End.for now.. 


End file.
